Tuchman’s Concept of “Folly” in the American Revolution, Essay Example

Tuchman’s concept of “folly” is, I believe, an interesting way to approach history. Certainly, teleological approaches to history (i.e., that all history is moving towards some definitive goal) have become less fashionable in the literature. Such interpretations, I think, can be traced back to an Enlightenment narrative, whereby human history is conceived in terms of an irrevocable march of progress. It is clear that such approaches to historiography in the contemporary era have become marginalized. I notice in the literature that there is a greater emphasis on the contingency of history, the wrong turns, and the pure chance of events. Tuchman’s work in my opinion fits into this modern approach to historical work. To explain pivotal events in terms of folly, which for the author entails a policy approach that basically transgresses one’s own self-interests, shows the irrational side of human development. It puts to the test Enlightenment rationality, as the picture of what constitutes human existence in Tuchman’s work becomes much more heterogeneous. At the same time, I feel that Tuchman nevertheless simplifies this very heterogeneity, by adapting a certain after- the-fact perspective that de-emphasizes what it means to be caught up in the throes of such events. Namely, in such situations it becomes difficult to conceive exactly what actions are in one’s own best self-interests.

In regards to Chapter 4, in which Tuchman addresses the American Revolution, the author’s main premise is that it was folly for the British to lose the American colonies. For Tuchman, this was a process that basically deteriorated over a number of years: this situation was completely avoidable. Tuchman rehearses the familiar argument that the British loss of U.S. colonies was precipitated by the issue of taxation. The folly in this case was that the policy to pursue taxation merely incited those living in the U.S. colonies. For the British, the wealth that could be gained from somehow compromising on taxation would be greater than the income generated by taxes. Hence, the British effort to pursue such a hard-line policy in regards to the United States was completely unnecessary from Tuchman’s perspective. A much more sensible and pragmatic approach could have been taken, according to which taxation of the colonies was not construed as a priority of the British: this gesture would have appeased the rebellious spirits in America, thus allowing the colony to remain decisively under British control.

Now from the perspective of common sense, I can understand Tuchman’s basic premise. What was required in such a situation in her reading was merely to evaluate what could be lost and what could be gained. It would be in Britain’s self-interests to remain lax in their taxation policy. But I think this is omits a number of key arguments. Firstly, Tuchman takes a certain retroactive, bird’s eye position in her approach to the narrative. Certainly, it appears that the United Kingdom would be better off today from a geopolitical and economic standpoint if the United States was one of its colonies. This is a very facile statement to make. But what makes history contingent is that such a bird’s eye position precisely never exists. In this sense, the very concept of folly means that we can always determine beforehand or presuppose what are our “self-interests” in a given situation.

What were the self-interests of the United Kingdom at the time period Tuchman discusses? Obviously, I think it could be reduced to a basic realist position. This is the position Tuchman takes in her entire book: folly appears as a transgression of self-interest because self-interest is related to some realist notion of power and maintaining power. The United Kingdom would not be acting in a manner symmetrical with “folly” if they did not act in a realist manner. But arguably the United Kingdom did in fact act in such a manner. The issue was how to maintain their hegemony, and I think, according to how Tuchman presents the revolution, the decision to impose taxation was precisely an instance of trying to maintain hegemony. It was a particular decision in regards to how to realize the latter, that is, to realize this fundamental realist ambition.

In this regard, I think the argument is more accurately framed as follows: the United Kingdom made the wrong choice within a realist framework. They miscalculated their ability to maintain the U.S. colonies. But this is not to say that the decision to continue with the taxation policy was one that betrayed self-interests. The policy of a certain laxness towards the United States on this issue could obviously be seen at the time as a de-stabilization of the United Kingdom: if the United Kingdom would acquiesce to the United States, this would be equivalent to a recognition that it is not in control within the United States. Such a gesture could be interpreted as an explicit recognition by the United Kingdom of their lack of authority in the colonies. It goes without saying that this would have negative effects on the other colonies, who would suddenly question the hegemony of the United Kingdom and the extent to which their “colonies” are really subject to a centralized authority in London.

In this regard, I think Tuchman’s linking of folly with self-interests presupposes that it is simple to identify what are in one’s best self-interests. If one adapts a realist perspective to politics, this does not automatically mean that one knows what to do in regards to policy: realism merely emphasizes such self-interests. The difficult part is identifying where exactly self-interests lie and how to maintain them.

However, this is not to suggest that Tuchman’s concept of folly is misguided. I particularly enjoyed this use of the concept as a way to debunk Enlightenment myths of a linear upwards ascent of history. Tuchman’s unique approach underscores the radical uncertainty of history, a history that is as much constituted by foolish mistakes as it is by decisive interventions. I think the problem lies, however, in the failure to understand that in the midst of a given historical situation the line between foolish mistakes and decisive interventions can often be a very thin one. For the armchair historian these types of judgments can be easily passed, but for a historian who precisely emphasizes the contingency at the heart of history, an understanding that such clear-cut distinctions are a simplification should also be present in Tuchman’s narrative.